GTKT
1361 Words
The next day, Zama lay on the deck chair, her head tilted up to the sun, her curls spilling out of the scarf she had tied earlier. Thabo walked over, holding two drinks, and handed her one with an amused smile. “You know, you’re really bad at doing nothing.”
She took the glass, her lips curling into a smile. “I work 24-hour shifts, Thabo. You expect me to suddenly become a beach bum?”
He chuckled, sitting beside her, his hand casually finding hers. “You could try. I mean, look at us. It’s been years since we had this—just us. No calls, no rushing off, no kids asking for snacks every five minutes.”
She turned her head to face him, her smile softening. “You’re right. This is exactly what we needed.” She paused, then teased, “Although let’s be honest—you’re just happy the kids aren’t fighting over the TV remote.”
Thabo laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t remind me. I almost miss the chaos. Almost.” Their laughter faded into a comfortable silence, the bond between them palpable in the way his thumb traced circles on her hand.
____
Siya adjusted her sun hat, watching Bongani struggle to balance two ice creams as he made his way back to their spot under the umbrella. “You’re taking forever!” she teased, laughing as he nearly dropped one.
Bongani grinned, handing her a cone. “Don’t complain. This is the closest I’ve come to athleticism all week.”
She rolled her eyes, taking a bite. “Not like you need much exercise. You’re one of those annoying people who stays fit doing absolutely nothing.”
“Fit? That’s generous,” he joked, sitting beside her. “You’re the one saving lives and looking amazing doing it. Meanwhile, I’m just trying not to embarrass myself.”
She swatted his arm lightly. “Stop being dramatic. You’re amazing, Bongani. You’re my calm in the storm.”
He leaned in, his voice low and playful. “And you’re my storm, Siya. Never calm, always spinning. But honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She laughed, but her hand found his, their connection deep and effortless.
Kiya & Themba
Kiya walked along the shore, the water lapping at her ankles, as Themba trailed behind her with a camera. “You seriously brought that thing?” she asked, glancing back.
“It’s for memories!” Themba defended, snapping a photo of her laughing.
She shook her head, amused. “Memories don’t need to be photoshopped.”
“You’re not escaping this moment,” he said, walking closer. “Look at this light—the ocean behind you, the breeze. You’re the perfect shot.”
She blushed, turning her face away. “You’re ridiculous.”
He gently turned her back to face the camera. “Just one picture, babe. I promise not to post it without your approval.”
She laughed softly, letting him take the shot. “You’re lucky I tolerate you.”
“And you’re lucky I keep finding ways to make you smile,” he countered, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
Naledi & Kagiso
Naledi sat cross-legged on the sofa, flipping through her phone as Kagiso approached with a tray of snacks. “You’re spoiling me again,” she said, looking up.
“Always,” he replied simply, setting the tray down. “It’s part of the contract you signed when you married me.”
She laughed, grabbing a piece of mango. “I don’t remember reading that clause.”
“It was in the fine print,” he teased, sitting beside her.
She leaned into him, her voice quieter now. “You’re good to me, Kagiso. I hope you know how much I appreciate it.”
He smiled, his hand resting on her knee. “And I hope you know how much I love taking care of you. It’s not a burden—it’s a privilege.”
She felt a lump in her throat, her vulnerability creeping in. “I know. I just… worry sometimes that I’m too much for you.”
“You’re my world, Naledi. And the world’s a big place,” he said, pulling her closer. Their connection felt unshakable, even in the quietest of moments.
_____
Kiya walked along the shore, the water lapping at her ankles, as Themba trailed behind her with a camera. “You seriously brought that thing?” she asked, glancing back.
“It’s for memories!” Themba defended, snapping a photo of her laughing.
She shook her head, amused. “Memories don’t need to be photoshopped.”
“You’re not escaping this moment,” he said, walking closer. “Look at this light—the ocean behind you, the breeze. You’re the perfect shot.”
She blushed, turning her face away. “You’re ridiculous.”
He gently turned her back to face the camera. “Just one picture, babe. I promise not to post it without your approval.”
She laughed softly, letting him take the shot. “You’re lucky I tolerate you.”
“And you’re lucky I keep finding ways to make you smile,” he countered, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
____
The villa’s spacious living room felt colder than usual, despite the warmth of the island breeze drifting through the open windows. Naledi sat on the edge of the sofa, scrolling aimlessly on her phone, while Kagiso stood by the mini bar, pouring himself a drink in silence.
“You didn’t say much at dinner,” Naledi said, her voice light but probing. “Is something wrong?”
Kagiso let the whiskey swirl in his glass before answering. “You seemed like you were doing plenty of talking for both of us.”
Naledi glanced up, her brows knitting together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s just… sometimes, I feel like I don’t exist in these conversations. You make it sound like everything revolves around you, like I’m just here for decoration.” Kagiso’s tone was sharp, his frustration evident.
Naledi set her phone down, sitting up straighter. “That’s not fair, Kagiso. You know I appreciate you.”
“Do I?” Kagiso shot back, turning to face her fully. “Because sometimes, it feels like I’m just the ATM or the chauffeur or the fixer. It’s always about what you want, what you need.”
Naledi stood now, her voice rising. “You knew who I was when you married me. I haven’t changed—I’ve always depended on you, and you seemed fine with that!”
Kagiso exhaled, his jaw tightening. “Because I thought we were a team, Naledi. But lately, it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like I’m carrying everything, while you just… enjoy the ride.”
Her eyes glistened as she stared at him, searching his face for something—some reassurance, some sign that his words weren’t as cruel as they felt. “You think I don’t do enough? Is that it?”
“It’s not about ‘doing enough,’” Kagiso said, his voice quieter now but still firm. “It’s about being enough. Being present, being involved. I want a partner, Naledi—not just someone who shows up when it’s convenient.”
Naledi’s throat tightened as she fought back tears. “I didn’t realize you felt that way,” she said softly, her anger giving way to vulnerability. “I thought… I thought I was doing my best.”
Kagiso sighed, stepping closer but stopping short. “I don’t want to hurt you. But if this is going to work, we need to figure out how to balance things. I need to feel like we’re in this together—not just me holding it all up.”
The silence between them was heavy, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Naledi nodded slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re right. I’ll try. I promise.”
Kagiso placed his drink down, his hand brushing hers as he spoke. “And I’ll try too. For both of us.”
- Writer
